One and the Same
by Liv Tinuviel
Summary: A small collection of moments in each of the Pevensie's lives, both in Narnia and in England. Two for each. I've tried a couple of different styles and such with this, so I would really appreciate some feedback.
1. Prologue

Lucy, rosy dawn, valiant bringer of the morn

Hold strong thy faith in Lion unseen, in face of those who scorn.

Peter, golden day, magnificent under Son most bright

Defend thy country, protect thy people, with help of Lion's might.

Edmund, dusky twilight, just transition 'twix the hours

Victoriously thou hast come, through battling desperate powers.

Susan, lovely night, gentle light in dark despair

Fear not, dear one, thou shall return to thy forgotten home most fair.

**AN: A bit clichéd, I know, and poetry is so NOT my forte, but bear with me. The following chapters will elaborate on each couplet…and will, mercifully, be written in prose. Review please!**


	2. In Which Lucy is Faithful

Lucy, rosy dawn, valiant bringer of the morn

Hold strong thy faith in Lion unseen, in face of those who scorn.

* * *

Alone in her room, Queen Lucy gazed out upon the Eastern Sea, as the rising sun chased away the lingering shadows of the night. A tap on her door, and Susan entered, already dressed for court.

"Hurry up, Lucy!" the Gentle Queen admonished. "We have to welcome the Calormene embassy this morning. You cannot meet them if you are not dressed, sister." Susan laughed as she spun about Lucy's room, gathering the things Lucy would need. The Valiant Queen, surprised and pleased by her usually composed sister's delight, could do naught but comply.

"What in Narnia has you so pleased, Su?" she inquired eagerly. Susan stopped her mad dash about the room, looking first at her sister, and then thoughtfully out the window.

"I'm not sure, Lu. Perhaps I've never noticed, since usually only the boys are up at dawn, but the sun – all golden and bright like that – reminds me of the Stone Table. Not that horrid night, but the next morning, when Aslan came back, and roared and played with us. Remember? It was joy in the midst of a war…" Susan trailed off, smiled, and recommenced helping Lucy get ready. Neither girl spoke again, and Lucy was left pondering her sister's words, and the sense of joy and absolute security they rekindled.

A few hours later, Lucy was fuming with indignation at the flippant way the Calormene ambassador had dismissed Aslan. Susan had winced, Edmund had glared, even Peter's eyebrows had shot up. But Lucy, usually so even-tempered, had spit an offended reply and dashed from the room. It was Susan who made Lucy's excuses, and then her own, and followed the young Queen to the garden. With a few soft, careful words, Susan eased Lucy's temper and commended her strength of faith. Lucy smiled at her sister, and swore she heard the roar of a lion's laugh.

* * *

Alone in her room, Lucy Pevensie gazed out at the London street, as the rising sun battled the lingering fog. A muffled bang on her door, and Susan stumbled in, still dressed from the night before.

"I'm sorry, Lu, did I wake you?" the young socialite worried. "My friend Ruth was ill, and I had to see her home. It took a bit longer than expected…" Susan sighed as she stepped out of her high heeled shoes and dropped wearily onto her bed. Lucy, not the least surprised by the gentle attention her sister paid to those she called friend, crossed the room to sit by her.

"I hope she's alright, Su. And no, you didn't wake me. Ed had a nightmare, and I spent the night with the boys, talking about the first time we met the Calormene ambassador, d'you remember?" she inquired eagerly. Susan sat up from where she had been reclining on the bed, looking first at her sister, and then thoughtfully out the window.

"Lucy, dear, I've told you that you must stop these silly games. I know Peter and Edmund encourage you, and I'll be having a talk with them, too, but really! You are nearly a grown girl. I know it can be frightening to grow up, but you must let these fantasies go, sweetie. Please, you'll be so much happier…" Susan trailed off, threw a concerned look Lucy's way, and stood to put on her nightclothes. Neither girl spoke again, and Lucy was left pondering her sister's words and wondering how a soul still so sweet and gentle could deny the home it loved.

A few hours later, Lucy was crying with indignation at the fight she could hear behind the boys' door. Susan was shouting, Edmund spoke softly, and Peter, by the sound of it, had just slammed his fist on his dresser. Lucy, knowing the cause for the argument to be her mention of Narnia earlier that morning, fled downstairs. When the argument ceased, it was Peter, walking through the house on his way outside, who found Lucy sobbing. With a few soft, careful words, Peter excused Susan and commended Lucy's strength of faith. Lucy smiled sadly at her brother.

"But Peter, what good is my strength of faith if it doesn't help Susan?" she wondered.

"It will, and it does, Lu, just be strong. For all our sakes."

**AN: Ok, that was interesting. I'm not very good at dialogue, and I think the parallel is kind of weird, but I am trying it out anyway. I would love to know what you think.**


	3. In Which Peter is Victorious

Peter, golden day, magnificent under Son most bright

Defend thy country, protect thy people, with help of Lion's might.

* * *

King Peter spoke softly with his brother and his general, his armor shining brightly in the sun of midday: the enemy would be upon them by nightfall. Oreuis bowed, a pleased smile quirking his lips as he straightened, and hurried off to see to Peter's orders. Edmund stayed resolutely behind, stubbornly disobeying an order to rest, since he knew his brother would be working himself nearly sick for the rest of the day.

"Ed, I told you to get some rest. The battle will likely begin in a few hours, and it won't do to be tired. You know these creatures abhor sunlight," Peter continued, "and fighting with limited visibility is dangerous enough without adding fatigue." Edmund nodded along to Peter's words, agreeing.

"Then, brother, I suggest you take your own advice, as you will be involved in this battle as surely as I. Unless, of course, you wish to leave all the dirty work to me, that you may claim the glory and yet retain the lustrous cleanliness of your armor," Edmund quipped. Peter rolled his eyes, then shrugged his shoulders, then sighed.

"Ed, I've too much to do – wait, don't interrupt!" He said hastily, as the Just King opened his mouth to speak. "And I need to know that I have done everything I can to prepare for this battle. I don't want any injuries due to poor planning, or an oversight."

"Peter. The only thing you are currently overlooking is the fact that you are not invincible. You need rest, too, brother. Do you not trust your army? Do you not trust your General? Do you not trust me?"

"Ed, of course I do," Peter began, only to be cut off by his determined younger brother.

"Then go rest and, I swear by the Lion, I will wake you in two hours to oversee the final preparations. I'll take care of things in the meantime, and rest after I wake you." Peter smiled, defeated, and trudged off to the Kings' tent to rest.

Many hours later, in the dark of night, Peter fought with nearly inexhaustible strength against the viciousness of the enemy. Edmund smiled; pleased he had forced his brother to rest. The enemy fled, terrified of the Lion's Army and the Lion's King who lead them.

* * *

Peter Pevensie spoke softly with his brother and his coach, his golden hair shining brightly in the sun of midday: the time-out almost used up. The coach smiled at the bickering pair, before walking away, leaving the boys to their team. Edmund stayed resolutely behind, stubbornly refusing to allow his brother to be the decoy in the coming play, since he knew Peter would take the hit to ensure the ball's safety.

"Ed, I told you to get in position. The time-out is almost over, and it won't do to waste time getting ready. You know this team is good," Peter continued, "so we can't give them any openings." Edmund nodded along to his brother's words, agreeing.

"Then, Peter, I suggest you take your own advice, since I'm faster and less likely to be caught. Unless, of course, you want to be tackled to the ground, hogging all the glory from the rest of us," Edmund quipped. Peter rolled his eyes, then shrugged his shoulders, then sighed.

"Ed, the game's too close – wait, don't interrupt!" He said hastily, as his little brother opened his mouth to protest. "And they are too big. What if you can't outrun them and you get seriously hurt? I'm at least a little closer in size…they can't hurt me as badly."

"Peter. They can't hurt me if they can't catch me. And they _won't _catch me. I can do this, have a little faith. Plus, you're more likely to be able to break through their line if they don't take the decoy." Peter smiled, defeated, and trudged off to what would have been Edmund's position on the field, much to the surprise of their teammates.

Minutes later, beneath the blinding sun, Peter ran with nearly inexhaustible strength against the opposing team. Edmund smiled as he dodged another tackle, pleased he had forced his brother to switch positions. The other team watched, dumbly, as Peter and his team fought with the ferocity of Lions, and a dark-haired boy darted around the field.

**AN: Same as last chapter. I would really appreciate feedback, since I don't usually write scenes. Thanks! Oh, by-the-by, I have no idea what game the boys are playing. Maybe soccer, maybe rugby, who knows?**


	4. In Which Edmund is Different

Edmund, dusky twilight, just transition 'twix the hours

Victoriously thou hast come, through battling desperate powers.

* * *

Edmund had made a choice. He had decided to remain in Narnia and help his brothers and sisters end the Witch's reign. So why was he running away from the battle? Mr. Beaver called to him as he turned back toward the melee.

"Peter's not king yet!" He tossed over his shoulder as he ran. The Witch was evil and needed to be stopped. But that didn't mean that the Narnians had to do it alone. That Peter had to do it alone. He was only a boy.

Running as fast as his ten year old body could carry him, Edmund sprinted along the rise toward the Witch stalking Peter. Pausing only to shove that annoying dwarf to the side, he finally caught up to Her. With a battle cry heard by all, he leapt at the Witch, intent on destroying her wand. He missed. _Oh, well done, Ed_, Peter's voice ran through his thoughts. But no, Peter loved him; the girls loved him. The Witch had used him, had tried to convince him to betray his siblings in the cruelest possible way. Shaking his head to clear it (Peter wasn't the bad one…he was…She was), Edmund struck again, his aim true. The wand shattered, and the Witch glared fiercely at him, twirling his sword away before stabbing him through the gut.

As he fell, he thought he heard his name, but he couldn't be quite sure. Gasping for breath, he had no concept of time, nor any idea of how the battle was progressing. He couldn't feel his legs. _Try not to wander off_, Peter whispered in his mind. A cool drop, refreshing and invigorating, and the next thing he knew, Edmund was being crushed against Peter's armor.

"When are you going to learn to do as you're told?" Peter demanded through his tears. _Peter crying? Over me?_ Edmund smiled, glad to be alive, and spotted the Lion approaching. As Lucy hurried off to administer her Cordial, Susan stood to ready a tent for them all, and Peter followed Lucy to thank Oreius, leaving Edmund alone with the Lion once again.

"Well done, child. You have come far, and shall be remembered for the good you do, rather than the mistake you made," Aslan purred against him as Edmund wrapped his arms around the fluffy mane.

* * *

Edmund had made a choice. He had decided not to return to his old friends. So what was he doing sitting with them? Ralph called to him as he stood from the table.

"I'm done." He tossed over his shoulder as he moved to sit beneath a nearby tree. Those boys were rotten, and needed to be taught to act correctly. But he didn't have the strength to do it. Not yet, not so soon. He was only a boy.

Walking quickly, but careful to avoid the appearance of running, Edmund feigned obliviousness to the person following him. Pausing only to extricate a book from his bag, he finally made it to the tree. Sensing the hit long before it landed, he ducked, ostensibly to set his bag down. The punch missed, hitting the tree instead. _Oh, well done, Ed_: Peter's voice, in a tone learned from Edmund, reserved for when he did something snarky and stupid. But no, Peter wasn't around. So Edmund was left to this fight on his own.

"Just don't leave, Pevensie, and it'll be fine. I'll graciously pretend this was a prank," Gabriel said grandly.

"Not a prank, leave me alone, I've had enough," Edmund remarked, dodging another blow as two more boys joined the fight, well away from the inquiring eyes of teachers. Not even remotely tempted to rejoin the gang (What would Peter say? What would _Aslan_ say?), he paid the price and took a slight beating. The last hit was hard, and Edmund knew he was going to hit the ground before it even landed.

As he fell, he thought he heard his name, but he couldn't be quite sure. The three boys backed away, that he knew, but little else besides a calm, deadly voice somewhere over his head. A cool drop, refreshing and invigorating, and the next thing he knew, Edmund was sitting propped up against Peter, who shook his head fondly.

"It was the right thing to do, Ed. Maybe it will influence them. Ralph seemed inclined to follow. It was well done, and people will see the change, Ed, I promise they will. Just give them time."

In Edmund's mind, a Lion roared.

**AN: Same. Thoughts are appreciated, always. Thanks!**


	5. In Which Susan is Homesick

Susan, lovely night, gentle light in dark despair

Fear not, dear one, thou shall return to thy forgotten home most fair.

* * *

Queen Susan looked at the rain falling upon the Cair, and saw the grey, crowded streets of London. She remembered the name, if her siblings did not – London in England, not War Drobe in Spare Oom. Their mother, who had sent them away (though Susan admits she cannot recall why); their father, who was fighting in a war and had been for some time.

Lucy danced in from walking in the rain, dripping wet and overjoyed.

"Su! Whyever do you look so sad?" she asked, concern covering her pretty, almost grown-up features.

"Lucy…do you remember anything about Spare Oom at all? Our family? Our friends? I know the boys don't, but do you? You used to love the rain there, too, and Peter would always have to dash out and bring you in before you caught cold…"

"No, Su. I don't remember that at all. It would have been terribly long ago, wouldn't it? I must have been too young to remember."

"Well. I suppose it must just be the rain that makes me nostalgic. It rained a lot there, in Spare Oom, I mean—" Susan broke off abruptly as Lucy interrupted.

"Oh, but Su! Surely you don't want to go back? Leave Narnia?"

"Of course not, Lucy. I love Narnia with all that I am. Never doubt that." Satisfied, the youngest Queen skipped from the room, determined to find at least one of her brothers to entertain her.

Susan turned back to the rain. Certainly, she missed London, that far away, almost imaginary land, but she wouldn't trade Narnia for anything. Surely if she were meant to live in London, she would have stayed in London. Narnia was lovely, Narnia was comfortable, Narnia was home.

* * *

Susan looked at the rain falling on the grey, crowded streets of London and saw the Cair , set in the cliffs. She remembered the name, though she told her siblings she did not – Cair Paravel in Narnia, not that silly castle for their silly game. Her friends, Dryads and Animals and all sorts of fantastical beings; Aslan, the Lion who loved her, or so she had thought, or so she still hoped.

Lucy danced in from walking in the rain, dripping wet and overjoyed.

"Lucy! How on earth can you be so pleased with so much rain?" Susan asked, her beautiful face twisting into a grimace.

"Susan…you know I love the rain. I've always loved it. Don't you remember? In Narnia I used to dance with the Dryads when it rained, and Peter would have to dash out and bring me in before I caught cold…"

"Lucy, don't be silly. It was just a game. I've told you, dear, you _must_ give up these fantasies of yours. They aren't good for you!"

"Susan, do you remember anything about Narnia at all? Our subjects? Our friends? You loved Narnia, Su, and you are still the same person, gentle and beautiful. Why do you refuse to remember? You've surely not changed so much!"

"Lucy –" Susan broke off abruptly as Lucy interrupted.

"I can't believe you won't remember." Heartbroken, the youngest Pevensie walked off to find at least one of her brothers to console her.

Susan turned back to the rain. Certainly, she remembered Narnia, so much so that it hurt to even think of it. Surely if she were meant to live in Narnia, she would have stayed in Narnia. Narnia was lovely, Narnia was comfortable, Narnia was home.

Narnia was gone.

**AN: And that's it! Sorry to end on a sort of terribly depressing note. But if it makes you feel any better, I think Susan gets to True Narnia eventually. Her road is just a little longer. **

**I'm thinking of changing Peter's chapter. One reviewer pointed out that it seems to be more about Edmund, and I am inclined to agree. Any thoughts?**

**Thanks so much for reading and I hope you liked it! Reviews always welcome and much appreciated!**


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